It's a Mad World
by mitzipler
Summary: Time travelling. The act of travelling to a different dimension. Future or past. A method of correcting past wrongs. But, more often than not, it also opens up an excellent opportunity to hit the Karaoke bar. Sakura-centric.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.**

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 _Expect the unexpected ~ Anonymous_

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Time travelling. The act of travelling to a different dimension. Future or past. A method of correcting past wrongs. But, more often than not, it also opens up an excellent opportunity to hit the Karaoke bar.

This is precisely the first thing Sakura did when she awoke. Perhaps it would had have been best for her to find a village and pinpoint what era she awoke to. Perhaps she should be in a shady motel, scrolls spread in front of her, her hand aching from scribbling so fast, plotting and scheming. But that was little Sakura's thing. This Sakura? Sure, she'll do it. But only after she's sung Baby it's only me ten times, explored the latest vogue and pondered the merits of organic concealer to its chemical counterpart. Maybe get a facial while she's at it.

She _is_ a woman with needs, after all.

Singing in front of an appalled crowd was lovely, but not quite as lovely as the dumplings she devoured afterwards. Indeed, guilty foods are the best. Dramatic monologues are a close second, Sakura decided, peeking over the vase and watching two men brawl.

They're civilians, Sakura knew. She could see it in their sloppy fists, open blind spots and inexistent chakra. Although, they didn't _look_ it. She had never seen an outfit so…outlandish. Their sleeves were ridiculously baggy—it swallowed their hands, for kami's sake—and their waist belt reached their chest. Even Naruto would cringe, and he wears an _orange jumpsuit._ From experience, Sakura knew that it was civilian's counterparts that fashioned themselves in…expressive ways.

Sakura struggled not launch to her feet and lead them to the nearest saloon. _Honestly._ Was _this_ the fashion quota?

She's not impressed.

The man with a stripped bandanna and three rings (all of which were fake gold) fisted his companion's shirt. "Listen 'ere, Yuto," he spat, revealing a handsome set of rotten teeth, "you're gonna have to cough up, or you're pretty wife is gonna pay for it."

It seemed that 'Yuto' was unimpressed too. He slapped away his hand and sneered. "As I keep telling you, you'll have your fucking money. Just give me a few weeks, alright?"

Ah, it was the bad-guys-after-me-for-my-debt problem. She would know—she happened across plenty of those in her latter years. She was the one who sifted its grit from Konoha.

Despite Konoha's universally accepted title as 'The Nice Village,' the village was not as pure as it boasted. Beneath the sunshine and smiles was a criminal's realm, and Sakura can no longer remember how many pernicious organizations she had put to rest. Maybe twenty. Maybe fifty. All Sakura knew, there was _a lot_. But she supposed Konoha's more immoral activities wasn't so surprising. It _is_ a shinobi village. One of the top five, in fact.

It was whilst debating the discrepancies between her and the international perception of Konoha that it happened.

It came without warning, as all terrible things do. Perhaps there was a momentary admonition before it happened—a moment when everything paused and held their breath. But Sakura hardly had the time to realise it for what it was. And by then it was too late.

It was here. And so was the stunk of death and fear and ash.

Around her was a montage of clockwork instruments, shattered glass, shredded red and blue fabrics from the booths, rubble and bodies—so many bodies. Beyond her was a signpost with the delicately written words Welcome to Rumdale. It stood among the chaos like the only surviving tree after a bushfire. Like Naruto must had looked like when he arrived at Konoha; a single man and his unworldly companions wondering blindly into a wasteland, a God's conviction tangible around them.

Except, this was no God. This was the wonderwork of a monster.

Her hand grasping her arm as if her life depended on it, she felt the sharp pinch of her medical chakra. But that's not what made her gasp.

She heard it before she saw it.

It sounded like a dog. Heavy breaths. A crunch that could had been it trampling over crumbled buildings. A snarl that didn't sound quite as welcoming as she would've preferred.

Then, she felt it. Something splatted on her head, and it dribbled down over her eyelashes and leapt from her chin. She rubbed her eyes, and it oozed between her fingers like snot. It was warm, wet and disgusting. Drool.

Craning her neck despite her prey instincts to shut her eyes and let darkness cradle her, she came face to face with an oversized fox with eyes redder than her blushes. It was staring down at her with a lustful gaze, and while Sakura had expected to go in many ways—from the ugly to the just hideous—she had never quite expected to go by cannibalism.

And here she was hoping for a nice day out at the Karaoke bar.

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 **Author's Note: Inspired by the synopsis of .Enadi's story, if the shoe fits. Except, this time she hits the Karaoke bar, and all hell breaks loose. Thanks for reading, and please review, vote, etc!**


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